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Joined
Dec 5, 2022
Messages
939
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Location
Clarington, Pa.
Ya’ never know what you’ll run into when you travel to the high mountains. Every once in a while, you run into things that aren’t supposed to be there. This was one of those interesting times when all I had with me was my flintlock rifle. A flintlock rifle is a rifle that you load from the muzzle. The powder is measured and poured down the front of the barrel. A round lead ball is dropped down the barrel to sit in top of the powder. The rifle is fired when a piece of flint strikes a piece of metal called a frizzen, which throws a spark into the powder in the pan to touch off the rifle. It takes time to reload this type of rifle. One shot’s all you get.

The winter of 2003 was a particularly harsh winter with sub- zero temperatures and deeper than normal snow fall, especially in the high mountain. Christmas had passed and my wife and I were anticipating’ the New Year. December 26th is the start of the late primitive weapons season where only a flintlock ignition rifle, .44 caliber or larger, loaded with black powder, patch, ball, and iron sights is allowed.

It was just before sunup when I headed for the back country. My property borders a National Forest. I step right out my back door and into the mountains. The weather forecast predicted a bright sunny day in the teens, promising to be a beautiful day for hunting. I was excited about a day in the mountains; Like the ol’ saying goes, “A bad day hunting in the mountains is better than a good day at work”. I grabbed my trusty flintlock, possible bag containing my patch, ball, powder, and skinning knife. In my eagerness to get going, I left my backup pistol behind. I never go into the mountains unarmed. One never knows what they’ll encounter up there. I like to go as far as I can onto the back country to get past the fair weather hunters. In my many years hunting, I have had some close calls with wildlife.

After a couple hours of walking’, I was a ways back, where the terrane is quite rugged. The Mountain Laurels and Hemlocks are thick in here so the snow covering’ the ground is much thinner due to the thick foliage. I set up for a spell on a well-worn Deer trail when I heard a sound that I hadn’t heard since my Marine Corps days hunting at Camp Pendleton, California. As I listened, the sound seemed to get closer. As I assessed my situation, I suddenly realized how foolish it was to forget my revolver. Well, it is what it is, I thought. The best way to deal with an aggressive predator is to either shoot it or try to put some distance between you and it. I didn’t want to shoot it if I didn’t have to, so I decided to quietly skedaddle out of there.

My ol’ grandpappy taught me a long time ago, you only kill for 2 reasons. Food and self-defense. If I could get out of there without doing it harm, that’s what I was going to do.

I decided it was time to put some distance between me and the all too familiar sound. I stood and checked my flintlock. Opening the frizzen, I brushed the old powder from the pan, cleaned the touchhole with my hole pick well. I took out my knife and sharpened the contact edge of my flint and wiped any moisture from the flint and frizzen face. I then checked the position of the flint, tightened the jaws to ensure my rock was secure, then lowered the cock to the half cock position. Lastly, I primed the pan with fresh powder, closed the frizzen and double checked myself. All the while keeping my ears open.

Well, I thought, I was as ready as I would ever be, so I headed back down the mountain as quietly as possible. My rifle was laid across my arms ready to go.

99% of my hunting is with my flintlock. I think I’m a better than average shot with this old rifle, however only one shot between me and this aggressive predator is not odds I wished to test.

I moved slow and quietly as possible back down the mountain. After about an hour of easy stepping, I had traveled what I estimated to be a mile or so and I thought I was in the clear. I took my time; I was more concerned with stealth then speed. I went through an area of little snow with frozen leaves and pine twigs showing. The forest canopy is quite thick in this area, not much snow makes it to the ground. However, there was a thin layer of ice under the powder. My boots seemed to make an awful loud crunching sound as I walked over the frozen ground. Every step brought the echo of crunching leaves, snapping twigs, and frozen ferns. I stopped to listen; the crunching continued for three more steps then stopped. I waited silently, listened to the silence of the cold mountain air for a few seconds before continuing to walk as silently as I possibly could. After a few steps I could hear the echo again. I knew now that I was being stalked. Stalked by a predator who’s not supposed to be in this part of the country.

I slowly covered about fifty yards when I entered a small clearing. The clearing was about thirty yards across. I knew this was it. It was time to end it. Either I was going to get it, or it was going to get me. I moved to the far side of the clearing as quietly as I could on the crunching ice and set up in a stand of Mountain Laurels. If I missed my shot or didn’t kill, I knew I had a fighting chance with my knife among the dense, twisted, gnarly branches of the mountain laurel’s. Well, that’s all I had, so be it.

As I snuggled into the mountain laurel’s, and quietly, with my hand over the lock to muffle the click, pulled the cock to full cock, checked the charge in the pan closed the frizzen and tapped the priming powder away from the touch hole. I aimed my old flintlock rifle directly at the trail I had just exited. The quiet was eerie. My ears strained for the slightest sound, any sound that would betray the beast's position. Seconds passed, and then a minute, nothing. The only sound I heard was a slight breeze as it moved through the trees. Cocking my head to one side in an effort to focus, there it was a faint crunching of footsteps. Got ’cha, I thought to myself.

The seconds felt like hours. It was close and creeping closer. After a few tense moments, the predator entered the clearing through the same trail opening I had used minutes before. I lined my iron sights right on the chest of this wonderful animal. Beautiful, I thought to myself. He was the most magnificent thing I had ever seen. I had seen quite a few out west. He was rather large animal with a very heavy dark brown winter coat, large head, slender body, and long tail. As soon as his front paws hit the ground, he looked me square in the eyes and I stared back, finger on the trigger, unblinking. Our eye locked in anticipation of each other’s next move. I wanted him to decide his own fate. I had him dead to rights and he knew it. We stared at each other for what seemed an eternity but were in reality only a few seconds.

The cougar let out a sound I had never heard a cougar make before. The sound sent a chill up my spine. The sound echoed through the trees carried by the cold crisp winter air. At that moment the cat turned disappearing from the clearing through the same trail opening it had entered. I stayed at the ready as I listened to the crunching of his footprints fade into the distance. When I felt confident the cougar had left the area, I put my rifle back on half cock and slowly made my way down the mountain listening for that all too familiar echo.

Since that day, I look for cat sign when I go in the deep mountains, especially when I go through that area. To this day, I can see in my mind’s eye the look on the face of the cougar when our eyes locked. I like to think he has the same memory of my eyes locked on him.
 
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Great story!

During my career as a Marine Aviator flying Hueys out of Camp Pendleton, CA I can't tell you the number of times that I had to buzz a cat that was walking behind, apparently stalking, one or two of the young Marines doing land navigation for the nco course up the Santa Margarita canyon.

The young Marines thought we were screwing with them.......

I had an instance after I retired while bow hunting one fine cool September afternoon in the great state of Idaho. After tromping around all morning chasing bugling elk, I sat down for my lunch and took a little afternoon nap. I woke up to look up at a cat sitting about 50 yards away staring at me intently. When I reached down and drew my pistol it magically disappeared.
 
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Hey Colonial just ask the Game Commission there are no cougars, mountain lions, or pumas in Pennsyltucky!
So they say. But there are bobcats, coyotes, wolves, black bears. A big cat would be an apex predator. It would seem likely that his feeding would be noticed, But if he is living off ground hogs, squirrels, chipmunks and such like? Well, maybe not. Humans might not notice til cats, dogs, calves and sheep go missing.
 
So they say. But there are bobcats, coyotes, wolves, black bears. A big cat would be an apex predator. It would seem likely that his feeding would be noticed, But if he is living off ground hogs, squirrels, chipmunks and such like? Well, maybe not. Humans might not notice til cats, dogs, calves and sheep go missing.
And, BTW, there are plenty of coyotes around. Been retired for several years but back when I drove into Philadelphia some nights for work I would see them around the waterfront. Plenty of fat rats there for them to live on. Don't see as much coyote here in the country. Guess between the raptors, farm dogs, barn cats and people with guns they don't dine well out here.
 
Good story. I'm glad you gave him the opportunity to live.. IMPO many animals are killed needlessly in the name of self defense. I've had a long life, much of it spent in the woods and have had some scary encounters with brown bears in Alaska, back bears here in the east, gators, hogs and panthers in my home state, Florida, and have never felt the need to kill anything.
I took a visitor out to a swamp noted for its black bear population which was making him very nervous. I told him, "Don't worry, I've got my .45" His reply, "Yeah, but I know you won't shoot a bear." True.
 
Growing up sheep ranching and living in the hills alone as a kid from 13yo to 17yo in the summers with a band of sheep, riding cattle, and hunting all of my life and being around all types of dangerous predators in their environment in the west in over 67 years on this earth, I have spent more time alone in the back country than most people. Lots of the time I was running around with a 1000 pieces of bait with me...LOL

Wolves, Russian boar, black bears, Grizzly, coyotes, mtn lions, packs of wild dogs (next to griz, they scare me the most...they are not afraid of humans) I have seen them all and hunted them all except for griz and killed them all except for griz and wolf. While I have shot a multitude of predators in defense of my animals, only once have I had to shoot an animal in my self defense that was not already wounded by me or others.

It was a badger that I stumbled upon and it would not scare or back down as it charged me and when it finally closed on me and I knew it would not stop I shot it with a rifle at about 15 feet. It was on a dead run for me. I found it was protecting a kill, an antelope fawn, it was feeding on.

I was with a fellow who was elk calling as a cow and had a black bear charge him and would keep charging.. It was convinced he was something to eat. He shot at it twice in two separate charges, and only hit it the second time. And that convinced it to quit.

While I have seen grizzly numerous times at great distance, twice I came upon grizzly at less than 100 yards and they glanced at me and ambled off....which was a good thing because while in awe of them they also scared the ever living manure out of me. Kind of like a scene from Jaws......"I think I need a bigger gun" ran through my mind. I have been up close to hundreds of black bears (also blonde/brown, but that is just a color phase, same species) and no issues..they don't scare me at all.....the two times around griz, they moved, looked and felt ominous. They are something completely different in attitude.
 
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Meow!..
20220324_120310-1.jpg
 
Nope, that was a coyote (or at least a canine of some type) you can see the pointed toes and toenails and narrow cup & triangle shape of the primary pad.

Here is a cat track (bobcat)
1674485412985.png



Here is a mountain lion track..note the size:
1674485507973.png



Dog vs wolf: mind you that must be a big dog and a little wolf. The grey wolf out here have HUGE prints
1674485982795.png


Wolf track
1674486104139.png


1674486376978.png
 
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Reading this, I somehow imagined that it was gonna be a Sasquatch story. If you are not a writer, you should be.

Back in the 1980's when I was a cab driver, a cougar crossed the road in front of me, INSIDE the city of Ashwaubenon, WI during a snow storm. The other cabies all laughed at me. The police did not, they wanted to know where I had seen this animal. The DNR next morning didn't laugh either, though they stopped short at acknowledging the existence of cougars in Wisconsin. They still haven't, so far as I am aware, though it is common knowledge among local residents that the big cats have made a comeback in some areas of the state.

This particular cougar left nothing but a few tracks in the snow that were too badly degraded by morning to tell what had made them.

I've occasionally encountered largish predators in the woods, but mostly they were making haste to get as far away as they could. Only wild animal that ever "attacked" me was a racoon. I had a T/C Contender in .22 LR. He made a nice rug mount.

The most dangerous creatures I have ever encountered were other human beings. Over the course of my life, I have been attacked by those things more often than I would like to admit. Probably the most dangerous one I ever met was five feet tall and weight about 90 pounds dripping wet. Might've married that one once upon a time. Now I am smart enough to stay clear.
 
Chorizo,
I think in your attached photo, they got the meausrements of the mountain lion print wrong.
Your hand also seems to prove it!
I know the cats up here have a Lot bigger prints than 2.5 inches each way!

all the best,
Rich.
 
From the title, I thought this was about a trip to the ER. Yesterday I heard a story on the radio about things people come to the emergency room to have removed from various places and I thought you were going in that direction. I am sorry. That was a very well written and interesting story. I’ve had close encounters with both wild and domestic animals. All with the wild ones turned out okay for me but I can’t say that about the domestic ones.
 
Chorizo,
I think in your attached photo, they got the meausrements of the mountain lion print wrong.
Your hand also seems to prove it!
I know the cats up here have a Lot bigger prints than 2.5 inches each way!

all the best,
Rich.
I concur..more like a bobcat size. But I posted it for the diagram to illustrate the difference between feline and canine tracks. Tracks of the different sized of a species are the same, just vary in size.

Canines have an inverted Y main pad, felines do not. Rarely do you see toenail marks on felines unless it is a big tom.

That is why I posted the photos
 
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Only dangerous confrontation was in Mexico, with a very drunken gringo who was harassing my wife. He did not stay around long after I set him up on a table and offered to punch his lights out. 🦨
I used to have uninformed people come into my store looking for a gun to "protect them from wolves/mountain lions/bears". Usually they wanted it to be of .44 magnum level performance, but be very light-weight and have no recoil at all. I would look them in the eye and tell them that the most dangerous animal they would ever meet in the woods... or anywhere else, was standing right in front of them; a young adult human male. That was some years back of course, though I am considerably more dangerous now than I was then. Invariably, they decided that they wanted a compact 9mm. Dunno if any of them ever actually encountered a large predator, but the odds are they didn't as they typically walked local trails in and around Green Bay, WI. Very few large predators in the area... lots and lots of drunken gringos.
 
Typically, a 9mm will stop almost all of the aggressive stuff in the woods in the USA less a moose or grizzly bear.

Everything else, even the black bear, once hit, rethink their options. It may not kill them, but it sure gives them an attitude adjustment. A wounded animal is all together a different matter.

My 2nd ex-wife was deathly afraid of bears, being a European city girl. She used to worry about a bear getting me. I told her the bears needed to look out for me, that I was the most dangerous animal in the woods. You are right, the two legged predator is much more dangerous than the others.
 
Reading this, I somehow imagined that it was gonna be a Sasquatch story. If you are not a writer, you should be.

Back in the 1980's when I was a cab driver, a cougar crossed the road in front of me, INSIDE the city of Ashwaubenon, WI during a snow storm. The other cabies all laughed at me. The police did not, they wanted to know where I had seen this animal. The DNR next morning didn't laugh either, though they stopped short at acknowledging the existence of cougars in Wisconsin. They still haven't, so far as I am aware, though it is common knowledge among local residents that the big cats have made a comeback in some areas of the state.

This particular cougar left nothing but a few tracks in the snow that were too badly degraded by morning to tell what had made them.

I've occasionally encountered largish predators in the woods, but mostly they were making haste to get as far away as they could. Only wild animal that ever "attacked" me was a racoon. I had a T/C Contender in .22 LR. He made a nice rug mount.

The most dangerous creatures I have ever encountered were other human beings. Over the course of my life, I have been attacked by those things more often than I would like to admit. Probably the most dangerous one I ever met was five feet tall and weight about 90 pounds dripping wet. Might've married that one once upon a time. Now I am smart enough to stay clear.
You got that right Dale with he oughta be a writer.In fact he is.Can,t you tell by the big intro.C,mon man,we don’t need a lesson on muzzle loader design and loading.That proves it was written for general readers that would have no clue.We know better and that was his first mistake. The second is if he did his homework he would have known that the Cougar hoax has been beaten to death in Pa.Nice try Bud but you should have waited till April Fools Day before you tried this.Thanks anyway cause I got my best laugh of the day.
 
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